


Death Will Set You Free

by fractionallyfoxtrot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Casual Conversations in Dire Situations, Imprisonment, M/M, Pre-Relationship, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23219974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/pseuds/fractionallyfoxtrot
Summary: Facing a dire situation gives Gwaine an opportunity to ask long put off questions.
Relationships: Gwaine/Leon (Merlin)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Camelot Drabble](https://camelot-drabble.livejournal.com/) community and the prompt 'desperation.'

"Why did you become a knight?"

Leon looked to Gwaine, dropping his distant gaze from where it seemed like he was imagining the sun. It took a moment for Leon to focus on him and his words.

"Why do you ask?"

Gwaine shrugged, the chains binding him to the wall barely rattling with the movement.

"I've always wondered," he said. "There never seemed to be a good time to ask."

"You think now is a good time?" Leon asked.

"There might not be another."

Leon considered Gwaine's point and nodded.

Movement caught both their eyes and they turned towards the barred door to the cell. A rat skittered by beyond the bars, exhibiting a freedom and carrying a crust of bread that Gwaine envied. It passed quickly and soon the dungeon was quiet again, devoid of life besides the two waning in the cell.

"I'm my father's second son," Leon said, slowly resuming their conversation. His eyes fell, a sigh weighing him down. "It's difficult to find purpose when you're not the heir. I thought becoming a knight of Camelot would impress my father."

Gwaine frowned. "Why?"

"He was a knight before he and my mother married." Leon sat back, his feet dragging over the dirt floor as he drew his knees to him. "It was the one thing my brother couldn't do. My father wanted him safe to ensure that the family line would continue."

Gwaine's frown deepened as he thought about Leon's brother sitting pretty in a manor house somewhere while Leon risked his life - would lose his life - trying to prove something to his father.

"Was your father impressed?" he asked, prepared to be angry on Leon's behalf.

"I couldn't say."

Leon looked off at the imaginary sun again. Gwaine looked up at the dark corner, wondering if Leon knew where east was or how many days had passed. He had quickly lost track in the darkness.

In the struggle to separate hours from days, Gwaine almost missed Leon's quiet reply.

"He died before I was knighted."

Gwaine shifted forward, forgetting his bonds until the shackles bit into his wrists. Leon flinched when he growled in pain, forcing Gwaine to settle back within the slack of the chains.

"I'm sorry," he said, apologizing for many things.

Leon met his gaze, his eyes soft amid the hardening lines on his face.

"Thank you," he said softly, an almost tangible gratitude spanning the width of the cell between them. Leon sighed, shrugged, and then gestured at their surroundings. "It doesn't matter now."

Gwaine couldn't stop a smile from sliding onto his face.

Nothing mattered.

The situation was dire - they hadn't had food or water in days and they had a sinking suspicion that their captors had abandoned the keep - but they had passed desperation long ago. They were beyond hopelessness and far from fear.

Nothing mattered any more.

Not kingdom or banner or new or old religion.

Not even distant, unloving fathers.

In all ways but one, they were free.

A smile touched Leon's face as he seemed to come to the same manic realization. It lacked inhibitions and warmed the hunger off his face.

It was an image Gwaine would carry with him until his very last moment.

"Leon?"

Leon sat forward as far as the chains would allow.

"I'm glad you're here."

A beat passed between them before Leon laughed, his throat dry from thirst but nonetheless joyful. Gwaine shook his head, chains rattling as he tried to wave off his words.

"No, not that... I'm not glad that you're going to die here in this cell," Gwaine tried to explain. "I just meant-"

"I know what you meant."

Gwaine held Leon's gaze, wondering how many unsaid things Leon knew he meant.

It seemed as if he knew them all.

"I'm glad you're here too."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon sees the purpose behind the questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [Camelot Drabble](https://camelot-drabble.livejournal.com) community and the prompt 'oblivious.'

Time had lost all sense of meaning.

The cell was dark, devoid of windows or anything that could indicate the time of day. Leon had been attempting to count the days based on the hours that he slept but sleep began coming to him in fits - short and long lengths, none of them restful - and he lost track some time after day three. There was no way of knowing how long they'd been there, no way of knowing how long they would remain.

Time passed according to rules Leon didn't understand.

He leaned his head and shoulder against the wall at his side.

For once he was content in not knowing.

"What would you do if you weren't a knight?"

The question came through the dark, Gwaine's voice worn and weak after days without water.

Leon could picture his expression without opening his eyes: curious, tired, oblivious to their fate.

"I would return home," he said, imagining the light of his family hearth. "I would help my brother run the household and take care of my mother."

_"No."_

Leon turned his head the minimum amount required to look at Gwaine, the response dismissive in a way he hadn't expected. Gwaine shook his head, hair falling over his face.

"What would you do," Gwaine rasped, "if you weren't bound by duty or family obligation? If..." Gwaine seemed winded from his earlier outburst. He took a long breath. "If you could do anything you wanted?"

Leon considered the question for the first time.

"That isn't what you asked."

Gwaine mustered a sneer but it lacked any malice. "I know. What would you do?"

Leon let his gaze linger on Gwaine's face before turning back to the wall in front of him. The stone walls of the cell bled into an endless stretch of grey in the darkness. He longed for sunlight, more so than food, just as much as water; Leon longed for the warm, illuminating rays of the sun.

The break of dawn over the high roof of a stable.

The drench of sun on an open pasture at noon.

The glow of dusk filtering through trees by a river.

"I would raise horses," he whispered, childhood memories rushing through his weary heart.

"Horses?"

Leon turned his head towards Gwaine again. Gwaine's interest was piqued, intrigue easing the gaunt lines on his face.

The questioning made sense; it was vital to distract from the gnawing ache.

"I have an uncle on my mother's side," he explained. It was an effort to speak. "He has a farm on the southern borders of Camelot. He raises horses for Uther."

Leon took a slow breath. He could almost smell the hay.

Gwaine smiled. Leon found that he did too.

"What kind?" Gwaine asked.

"Mainly coursers. Brown, black, and every so often one as gold as honey. My mother would send me there in the summer." Leon looked down at the trenches in the dirt beneath his feet. "I loved it."

Chains rattled on Gwaine's side of the cell. Leon kept his head down. The raw skin under his shackles was easier to stomach than those under Gwaine's.

"What did you do there?"

"Anything my uncle needed help with. I fed horses, I mended fences. I mucked out stables. He even let me help birth foals."

Gwaine laughed. Leon turned, despite the effort.

"I can't imagine you shoveling horse shit," Gwaine said, mirth bringing a familiar life to his face.

Leon rolled his eyes, basking in Gwaine's laughter as he settled with his shoulders against the wall. Gwaine had always made fun of him, teasing Leon about his mannerisms and his upbringing. He had even called Leon 'my Lord' once; he rode off bursting with laughter before Leon could even think to respond.

The sound was a comfort when Leon had none.

"And you?" he asked, waiting for Gwaine to catch his breath. "What would you do, if you could do anything?"

Gwaine's eyes fell as he wrung his hands together.

"This."

"You're dying of thirst in a cell," Leon pointed out.

"With you." Leon felt Gwaine's gaze lock onto him, the weight of two words filling the air around them. Gwaine clenched and unclenched his hands, never looking away from Leon. "I would do anything... if I could do it with you."

Even in the dark Leon could see the glossy shine of Gwaine's eyes. He could feel the unspoken sentiment welling in his chest, stronger than hunger, more painful than thirst. He knew Gwaine understood. It was there, it _had been there_ for some time. Every glance on patrol, every embrace after battle, every moment of every day carried so much more than friendship and camaraderie

They both understood. They never spoke of it.

There was never time.

"Gwaine-"

"Is it too late?"

Gwaine's voice broke on something other than fatigue or thirst.

Leon found that his did too.

"It's never too late."

Gwaine sighed as his head fell back against the wall, his growing smile a beacon in the dark.

Leon counted every breath he took.

There was still time.


End file.
